One can fool life for a long time, but in the end it always makes us what we were intended to be.

He who has dreamed for long resembles his dream.

Even the West has known the architecture of empty space, whose object, for thousands of years, has been less to construct divine houses, than to create sacred places, to seize upon mystery and to immerse man in it-whether by raising the cyclopean pedestal that surrounds him with stars, or by hollowing out the sanctuary that wraps him in haunted night.

The world of art is not a world of immortality but of metamorphosis.

There are not fifty ways of fighting, there is only one: to be the conqueror.

As for the outside world, the artist is confronted by what he sees; but what he sees is primarily what he looks at.

The great mystery is not that we should have been thrown down here at random between the profusion of matter and that of the stars; it is that from our very prison we should draw, from our own selves, images powerful enough to deny our own nothingness.